


Aesthetics (Klance)

by SpicyGay



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Lance (Voltron), Dom Keith (Voltron), Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay klance, I had to look up how milkshake machines work for this, Keith gets so jealous guys, Keith likes milkshakes, Klance Fluff (Voltron), Klance au, Lance McClain gets lain, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), So gay guys, coffee shop au (kinda), fluff (Voltron), jealous! Keith (Voltron), jealous! Shiro (Voltron), klance, klance is gay, smut MAYBE, was that too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyGay/pseuds/SpicyGay
Summary: "Yeah, actually, I was wondering... do you guys sell milkshakes?""Um, I think so?""Great, can you get me a strawberry?""You want a strawberry?""No, you idiot, a strawberry milkshake,""Oh, yeah."





	1. Oceans and Baggy Hoodies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voltron4lucy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voltron4lucy/gifts).



> So wow, my first story. Please leave suggestions and correct my grammar/dialogue if I get something wrong, thank you :'). Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intro chapter to the story:) I hope you enjoy, I literally had to look up how to use a milkshake machine for this (next chapter;))

Each morning was the same for Lance. He walked, draped in his oversized and overused high school jumper to the coffee shop that mirrored Varadero beach.

Lance wasn't originally planning on working at "La Isabelica Casa Del Café," but seeing as he never left Cuba, he was almost forced to by his mama.

Lance wanted to leave this town. As much as he loved it, for its garlic knots and his Abuela's famous pastelitos, he wanted to go to America and study what he loved most, the stars.

Yes, astronomy was Lance's passion. When he wasn't at work, he was at the public library, 20 feet deep into one of the many astronomy books they had. The only problem was that the tall boy had read every single book that even so much as mentioned a star in that library. Whether it be Goodnight Moon to some complicated science book, Lance had read it, he had taken it to work so now its pages were filled with the scent of vanilla bean and coffee, and he had devoured every word written between the aging pages.

The walk to work this morning was absolutely no different than any other. He passed each neighborhood, each colorful brick house, each family dancing on the street simply because they could. He walked until his nostrils were engulfed in the scent of salt water, garlic, and the familiar aura of fresh baked bread. There was no question that Lance loved it here... however, he wanted to leave. He wanted to go to a fancy college in Florida (because he could just boat over there, if he got a ride from his tio) and bury himself in the stars. But for now, he was serving coffee and scones to the people of his town.

When Lance arrived at the café, he pulled out the key card he'd been given to check in every morning. The door was already unlocked, probably because Lance's best and oldest friend, Hunk, got there early each morning to make the food fresh.

"Hunk! I'm here!" Lance called into the dimly lit cafe, his yell directed towards the kitchen. "Hey buddy! Would ya mind coming in here and helping me with these pastelitos? Your Abuela gave me the recipe when I came over yesterday, and I wanna make sure I get them right," The bigger boy called back, "I may or may not need to test them. I need to be absolutely positive that they're perfect so I don't disappoint her." Lance happily obliged, he loved his Abuela and everything she cooked, but Hunk's skills were absolutely incredible.

Hunk too had his own hopes and dreams. He wanted to start a food truck in America and serve his own creations across the country. However similarly to Lance, He just couldn't leave. He couldn't decide if it was the town that was pinning him here or the fact that he straight up didn't have the money to buy a food truck and all the supplies needed to get it started. On top of that, he'd need a permit to be able to park anywhere and sell his food. He concluded that both those things were keeping him here. He loved his home town just as much as Lance, they'd grown up on the beaches here, eating the pizza from the shop directly across from the cafe and dancing carelessly down the neighborhood.

By the time Lance was done "poison testing" Hunks pastelitos (which were poison free, according to Lance after his third one), a few customers had already begun freckling the inside of the shop.

After a bit, though, a dark aura ruined the warm and friendly vibe that the coffee shop had going on. Lance turned, suddenly aware of the unwelcome feeling, only to see his least favorite customer, Zarkon. Zarkon came in every single day to get his black coffee with cream and no sugar. Lance had memorized the order (unwillingly), it was a constant now for Zarkon to sneer at Lance while refusing to pay because he was an 'elder'. It drove Lance insane.

Zarkon insisted that his name was of German origin, but Lance just assumed that he'd changed his name to 'Zarkon' in an emotional state. Lance would never want that name.

Today, Lance noticed, Zarkon seemed to have brought two people with him. The first was a muscular man, he looked warm yet numbing, with muscles that clearly rippled through his shirt at his every movement and a faint smile. The man had a high fade cut with a sort of white fringe on top. He had dark eyes that emitted a kind feeling, his arms- arm, (one seemed to be a prosthetic), was crossed at his chest as if he were judging the place.

The second male friend nearly took Lances breath away. It was like a kick in the stomach to see someone so unbelievably beautiful. He had dark raven hair in a long style, going past his neck and barely brushing his shoulders. Besides the fact that he had a mullet, his hair had a slight shine to it, reflecting the light of the dim cafe ever so slightly. His skin was the most beautifully smooth ivory color Lance had ever seen (not that he'd see many ivory people in Cuba), and he immediately wanted the boy’s skin-care routine. His neck was slim and long, dipping at the shoulders and collarbone into an elegant and beautiful shape, his arms the perfect example of muscular but not ripped. He had literally the sharpest jawline, that framed his face in a way that made Lance want to run his finger across it just to see if he would start to bleed. His hands were clothed in fingerless motorcycle gloves, his arms in a crossed position similar to the taller man.

"Hello Larry, I've brought two men for business purposes from Texas, so I expect that you won't interfere," Zarkon stated coldly, "They should know what they want, I'll leave them here to order while I retrieve more chairs for my usual seat." 

Lance had almost forgotten that Zarkon has managed to get his name wrong every single day. From 'Larson' to 'Liam,' he'd manage to screw up the name 'Lance'. Every. Single. Day.

"O-okay sir," Lance managed, he was pissed at Zarkon and still in shock at the beauty of the other boy. "Thank you, Zarkon, but I'm very able to speak for myself." The taller one said. Lance had to bite his tongue so not to laugh, he loved seeing people prove Zarkon wrong or stand up to him in a way. It was hilarious. "Uh, yes. Yes of course, Mr. Shirogane. Please order now while I get the table, if you will." Zarkon said, obviously a little shaken by the degrading comment. Lance assumed he didn't get to many of those.

"Hi... Larry? That's strange, your name tag says Lance," Said the one officially named 'Mr. Shirogane,' "Uh- Yes. My name is Lance, Zarkon has managed to screw it up every day since he first came in, though." Lance stuttered back, in awe of the man who could stand up to such a douche as Zarkon. "Ah, I get it. He can be a little compulsive, to say the least." Mr. Shirogane said it in more of a whisper, so not to alert Zarkon of their gossip about him. The beautiful one in the back still had not said anything, Lance noted. He wondered why.

"Alright, could I please just have a vanilla latte? I'm in a bit of a sugartoothy mood," Mr. Shirogane said, changing the topic. "Of course, Mr. Shirogane, was it?" Lance asked. "Please, no need for the formalities. Just call me Shiro," He smiled warmly, making Lance wonder what this kind spirit was doing with a jerk like Zarkon.

"Got it," Lance said breathily, "And for you, in the back?" Lance smiled at the gorgeous man in the back. "Just an earl grey tea, thank you," they said it more as a statement rather than a request. "And a name?" Lance questioned, he was eager to know this man’s name. "Keith. I’m Keith." Keith stated in a monotone sort of way. "Okay, thank you Shiro and Keith. Will that be all?" Lance asked yet another question, but it was part of his job, after all.

"Well, you can help me with one thing," Shiro said slyly. "And what would that be, sir?" Lance asked, curious to know what he could do besides serve coffee, "What's that incredible smell? It's sort of fruity and creamy?" Shiro tilted his head in a way that sort of betrayed the naïvety of a child, yet still kept the juvenile happiness, the silly, innocent type of grin. "Oh," Lance chuckled, "Those are the pastelitos, would you like one?" Lance grinned, positively giddy that someone noticed the wonderful aroma.

"Yes," Shiro inhaled again, letting the smell sink into his senses, "Yes, I would." Lance turned and yelled into the back, "Hunk! I'm gonna need two pastelitos!" He waited for a moment, before hearing a cheery, "Alright, here they come!" Hunk came out with a small paper bag, the words "Isabelica Cafe" written in swirly ink on the "Now this is how to have breakfast," Shiro happily took the warm bag into his hands, opening up the paper bag to look inside. He was very pleased to see a crumbly pastry filled with a blood orange colored paste.

Lance finished making the drinks for the two men, carefully sliding a cardboard koozie onto both drinks, then proceeding to hand them to Keith and Shiro. “Thank you,” Shiro gave a small smile, “Come on Keith, don't be rude, say thank you,” he turned to Keith, smacking him on the back of the head.

“Jesus, Shiro! Thank you, Lance!” Keith yelped, rubbing the part of his head that was victim to Shiro’s prosthetic. Lance giggled at the sight, like an actual, girly giggle. Both Shiro and Keith stopped what they were doing to turn and look at the local before them, who was doubling over, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Lance? Are y-you okay?” Keith asked, with a concerned look on his face. “Yeah, it’s just,” he couldn’t breathe from laughing,“It’s just, working here, you don't see too many sweet customers, and you two are a sight for sore eyes.” Lance managed to get that all out with one breath, at at the end of his sentence he took in as much air as possible, exhaled, and said, “So, thanks for that.”

When Lance let his eyes drift up, he saw Keith, a light rose pink tinted his pale cheeks. Shiro gave him a nice smile, and said,“Thank you, Lance, for being so kind to us.” Lance smiled right back to Shiro, embarrassed that he actually said that out loud. “Anyway, we’d better get going, Zarkon is still waiting for us!” Shiro exclaimed, sipping his latte and heading off towards Zarkon’s table. “Wait! You forgot to pay!” Lance tried calling back to the older man, however it was too late, Shiro was conversing with Zarkon.

"I got it,” Keith said, smiling up at Lance. Lance could almost feel himself blushing. Damn, this kid was cute. With a few swipes of a card Keith waited, pen poised and ready for signing the awaiting receipt. “Would you like the receipt?” Lance questioned towards Keith. The boy nodded and grabbed the paper from Lance’s hand, signing both copies, then proceeding to hand one back to Lance. “Thank you! Come again!” Lance smiled. “Will do,” Keith muttered back. 

 

\------

 

Later that evening, when Lance was walking back toward his house, he smiled. Before he handed Keith the receipt he had written his number on it. Hopefully, Keith was the kind to look at the receipt and not throw it away immediately. When Lance reached his house, he took a moment to breathe before the peeling turquoise paint placed between the two houses both covered in fluorescent layers of decaying paint. When he opened the door, he was greeted by his mama and two younger siblings. Lance concluded that today was a good day.

\------

Keith, at the same time Lance was walking home, saw the note when the receipt fell out of his pocket, ‘Hey beautiful, call me ;) -Lance 52-112-xxx’ Keith smiled, Lance was so cheesy. He might just text him tomorrow, though. Maybe.


	2. Stars and Milkshakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith likes strawberry milkshakes and Lance likes stars:)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY IM A DAY LATE I LOWKEY FORGOT ABOUT THIS BC I HAVE HAD A BUSY WEEK PLS FORGIVE ME THANKS ILY

 

        It had been exactly three days since Lance given Keith his number on the crumpled caffeine scented receipt. And for exactly three days Lance had nothing on his mind but Keith, Keith, Keith. It's all he could think about.  
"C'mon Lance, he obviously didn't see it or he just doesn't care. Stop being hung up over a guy you talked to once, three days ago," Hunk complained yet again about the fact that Lance was still whining about Keith. "Hunnnnnnnk, he probably just is waiting for the right timeeeeee," Lance countered, slurring out his words. "Lance. Stop acting drunk and get back to work," the bigger boy demanded, suddenly aware that if Lance kept this up, he might not ever work again. "Fine. Jesus. Okay, mom," Lance huffed, getting up from his seat on the decaying couch in the employee room. 

As Lance made a Caramel Apple Spice for Lucy, he came to the realization that Keith was probably meant to fade into the crowd of faces that slowly turn into a blur of distant color. He wondered if his exaggerated flirting efforts were ever going to pay off, or if he was going to turn into a irascible old man like Zarkon. 

"Carajo!" The tan boy cursed as he stained light brown speckles across his white apron. "Lance," he told himself, "You need to get a hold of yourself," with a crooked frown, he slid an old rag across the spilled drink, and started over.   
By the time Lance called, "Caramel Apple Spice for Lucy," he'd decided that Keith wasn't allowed to become more than just a failed attempt to flirt in the back of his mind. Later tonight, Lance would ask Hunk to make some sweet dish to commemorate his sudden loss of worry for Keith, and they would spend the night talking about stars and the ocean and ways to earn money for Hunk's food truck. 

However, Lance did not at all expect to see dark glistening hair catch in the corner of his eye. Lance especially did not expect to turn and see an embarrassed looking Keith staring at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. "Hi, Lance," The boy managed to crack a shy smile, waving his gloved hand. A worn out red motorcycle helmet rested between his hip and arm, which Lance thought was oddly hot. "Keith," Lance managed to force the name out of his system in a breathy haze, for gods sake, he just said he'd gotten over the boy. 

"Can- Can I help you?" Lance was frozen, he did not expect this to happen. "Yeah, actually, I was wondering... do you guys sell milkshakes?" Keith asked, suddenly a lot more confident which again, Lance thought was kinda hot. "Um, I think so? Its been a while, but I think we have an old machine in the back." Lance was confused at why after ignoring him for three days, Keith decided to march on in and ask for a milkshake. A milkshake, of all the things he could have gotten, he wanted a _milkshake_. "Thanks, Lance," Keith said, sitting down in one of the bar chairs, 

"Could I get a strawberry?" Keith tilted his head while he asking the question, as if to make it more of a request rather than a demand. "You want a strawberry? What? I thought you wanted a milkshake, Keith," Lance said back, a little confused at the sudden change of mind. "No, you idiot, a strawberry milkshake," Keith shook his head lightly, a breathy giggle leaving his lips at Lance's stupidity. "Oh, yeah, Anytime!" Lance yelped, a little too eager. 

Lance head into the kitchen where Hunk was working on a dreamy smelling sort of muffin. "Hey, Hunk," Lance said, leaning over the chefs shoulder, "You know that old milkshake machine... we haven't used it in, like, a trillion years?" Lance asked. "Uh, I'm not sure? It might be broken, but why would you even need it?" Hunk replied, wondering why in hell Lance would need a milkshake machine. "Hunk, now is not the time for questions. I need that milkshake machine and you're the only one who knows how to use it," Lance retorted, desperate not to keep Keith waiting for too long. 

"Okay, okay, I'm going," The bigger boy said, moving from the cutting board over to the side of the room sporting a table and a cloth hiding a large, chunky object. He proceeded to run a finger across the old baby blue table, wiping off a line of dust, then pulling off the large cloth of a color that might have been yellow at one point.   
Dust blew across the room with a scent that was sort of musty, Lance couldn't place his finger on it. "Welp, this thing is pretty old, Lance. I'm not sure if it'll work," Hunk turned towards a hopeful looking Lance, his spirit suddenly a little less high. 

''C'mon Hunk, it's just a machine. You can do it, you're great with machines, right?" Lance said, beginning to panic about everything. He didn't know why he was so worried about a milkshake. "Okay, Lance, look. I don't think I can fix this fast enough, so why don't you run out to the 7/11 and buy a milkshake there, use one of our cups, and come back," Hunk countered, certain that his plan was fool-proof. 

"Okay, quick question, what the hell," Lance said, "That's both concerning and genius at the same time." Hunk just silently nodded his head, appreciating his own master plan. So, without another word between them, Lance left the shop with the biggest cup the store had in hand.   
After returning from a stressful argument with the store manager about bringing your own cups (Lance had one, he made it clear that he did not trust cups that were not his own), Keith was starting to worry. What if Lance had forgotten about him, or what if this was part of revenge for ignoring him for three days.   
  
\---------------------------------------------------------

Keith really did feel bad about that, though. He didn't mean to ignore Lance, it was more of an impulsive thing. Keith had never had someone willingly ask him to text them, people were usually too intimidated to do ask him anything.   
Keith really couldn't blame them, though. He purposefully dressed in a way as to drive people off, he wanted to be ignored, he wanted to be avoided. He hated socializing, and it seemed as if socializing hated him. However with Lance, there was something different. Though he had only talked to the boy twice, Keith could tell that Lance was somehow unique compared to the others that have given Keith their number. 

Usually, it was the emo kids who spent their time in a secluded corner -not that Keith was judging, he'd done the same thing all through high school- listening to heavy metal bands that Keith didn't really enjoy -he was more into things like Depeche Mode and AC/DC- who took a liking to him. Keith didn't understand why, though. He'd never had any interactions with them. Or anyone, for that matter.  
Anywho, Keith was nervous, which was peculiar because he was never nervous. He'd just have to hope for the best. 

When Lance did arrive, though, Keith noticed that he looked stressed, which made Keith a little more aware of his own sweaty palms. Oh god, why did he come today? He shouldn't have done that. 

He should NOT have done that. 

"Hey, Keith, I got your milkshake!" Lance said, grinning from ear to ear, he seemed to be extremely proud of this strawberry milkshake. Keith shook himself out of his thoughts, now paying full attention to the boy standing in front of him, plopping a large... coffee cup in front of him? 

"Um, Lance?" Keith said, "Why did you bring me a coffee cup?"   
  
Lance stared at Keith, his grin faltering. "Keith, that's your milkshake." Lance said, not breaking his eye contact with Keith. "Before you say anything else- we had no other cups," Lance interrupted Keith before the pale boy even had the chance to say anything. "Thank you, Lance," Was the only thing he could think to say.  
"So, um, do you have any... Interests?'' Keith spoke up after a long silence. Okay, it was generic. But he had to say something, okay? It was a desperate attempt for bonding. 

"Easy, I love the stars." Without missing a beat, Lance answered the question. "Everything about space, it's so... _wonderful_. Did you know, every one of us have the same mineral that's in dying stars in our bloodstream? We're literally made of stardust, Keith. Stardust." Keith was so stunned by his answer, it was so... beautiful. He'd expected Lance to say picking up cute chicks or something, but no. Stars were his passion. Keith could see that now.  
As Keith sipped slowly on his strawberry milkshake, Lance told him about space. From black holes to the matter that makes up stars, Keith suddenly found himself enriched in facts about Saturns rings and Jupiters red dust.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY ITS SO SHORT ALSO LMAO I didn't forget about Shiro;))
> 
>  
> 
> Here's a little thing: The definition of "Carajo" is "Fuck" in Spanish. So that's that.


	3. Call Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very very short because I wrote it this morning !! I’m sorry !!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late I have school and stuff :-v pls forgive me this is so short

Chapter 3; Call me  
  
It had become a constant for Keith to come in and order a strawberry milkshake, for Lance to run over to 7/11 and fill up the grande coffee cup with f'real strawberry milkshake.  
Lance had been waiting on Hunk to finish the milkshake machine located in their own shop, however it has been a process. Hunk was almost done, but he kept muttering words to himself such as, "The smallest screw goes there...'' And, "If only this was like making a batch of cookies..."  
Lance had gotten used to it, but he really didn't appreciate having to walk that much farther every day.  
As soon as Lance returned from his milkshake-adventure, he would hand the semi-melted drink to Keith, who would grab the cup, then proceeding to greedily sip the sweet drink, asking Lance different questions all the time.  
"What animal would be the cutest if you shrunk it down to the size of a cat?"

"A shark,"  
Lance would reply.

"Lance what the hell," Keith turned his attention to Lance, "It would still bite you, why not a hippo or something?"

"Keith, hippos have stronger jaws than sharks and are, like, 10 times more territorial," Lance said, making another drink for 'Karen'

"Whatever... Kill, Marry or Smash... Dave Gahan, Zarkon or... Demi Lovato?"

"Kill Zarkon, smash Demi Lovato, and marry Dave Gahan,"

"Why the fuck would you smash Demi Lovato?"  
Keith glared at Lance, "She's terrible."

Lance stared at Keith, "Yeah, but she's hot, Keith. Get perspective."

Keith snickered. Then the snicker turned into a giggle fit, which turned into him falling off his chair and rolling around in a mess of laughter.

Lance just stared. "Keith, are you LAUGHING at me?" The boy defensively wrapped his arms around himself, frowning at the giggling boy on the floor in front of him.  
"No! It's," He couldn't breathe from laughing so hard, tears began to form a misty layer on his eyes, "I'm gay, Lance! She's not hot to me," He stopped suddenly, awkwardly looking at Lance. He didn't mean to come out like that, and now he didn't know what to do.

"Oh," Lance didn't seem disturbed, to Keith's surprise, he seemed more lost on how to continue. "Same, sorta?" Lance said, staring at the dimly lit windows of the small cafe.

Keith stopped, his breath hitching on the strawberry milkshake scented air. "Well, this is really awkward," Lance finally said, letting out a slow breath, almost like a whistle.

After another moment of awkward silence, Keith let curiosity get the best if him. "How are you 'sorta' gay?" He couldn't help himself, it was something that he didn't quite understand.

"I'm bisexual. As in, I like boys AND girls," He looked back at Keith finally, and then another wave of 'What the hell do I do now?' Rushed over both of them.

"I, uh, got a phone," Keith cringed at his own choice of words, not sure if there was any context to that whatsoever. "I have to go, though. I have boxing.”

“Keith what the hell does a phone have to do with boxing?” Lance questioned, before realizing-  
_Oh_ ,  
He wanted to call Lance.

“Well, Lover-boy, you already have my number,” Lance sent a flirty wink in Keiths direction.

Keith’s reaction was not what Lance expected, and intstead of shyly turning away he attempted to say something back. Lance supposed he had to much pride to back down.

Keith, giving up on saying anything and trying desperately to flirt, nodded his head, gave a tiny smirk and walked out the door.

“He is so bad at flirting,” Lance said to himself before turning to the next customer, “It’s cute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll try updating as soon as possible :))


	4. Primaries and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, no, I think I’m catching feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m *kicks table*
> 
> So *kicks wall*
> 
> Fucking *punches door*
> 
> Sorry *slams fists on table*
> 
> For *hits head on fridge*
> 
> Not *slaps face*
> 
> Updating for like five months jesus christ I’m so sorry pls forgive me ily

5 June 2017

(9:28 PM)Spacegay has entered the chatroom!

(9:30 PM) Spacegay: Lance?

(9:30 PM) Spacegay: Sorry to bother ik it’s late.

(9:30 PM) Spacegay: ah sorry I’ll go work on my motorcycle.

(9:31 PM) Lancelot has entered the chatroom!

(9:32 PM) Lancelot: Keith wtf it’s literally 9:32 ???

(9:33 PM) Spacegay: you could have just said 9:30 I would have gotten the point.

(9:33 PM) Spacegay: Don’t tell me you’re one of those people.

(9:34 PM) Lancelot: what do you mean ??? Those people ??? The ones who respect the actual time ???

(9:34 PM) Spacegay: a few minutes mean nothing to anyone.

(9:34 PM) Lancelot: A few minutes could save you from being late to class.

(9:34 PM) Lancelot: a few minutes could get you out of a burning building

(9:35 PM) Lancelot: A few minutes could save your grade on a quiz.

(9:35 PM) Spacegay: Alright Lance I get it.

(9:35 PM) Lancelot: A FEW minutes,,,

(9:36 PM) Spacegay: Lance I got it.

(9:36 PM) Lancelot: COuld save you,,,

(9:36 PM) Spacegay: oh my god.

(9:37 PM) Spacegay: don’t do it lance

(9:37 PM) Lancelot: 15% oR MORE ON CAR INSURANCE

(9:37 PM) Spacegay has left the chatroom!

(9:37 PM) Lancelot: wait Keith I’m sorry come back.

(9:38 PM) Lancelot: Keith I didn’t mean it.

(9:38 PM) Lancelot: Keith come back

(9:38 PM) Lancelot: keiiiiiittthhhhhhhhh

(9:38 PM) Lancelot: yknow what it’s okay

(9:40 PM) Lancelot: im still waiting.

(9:41 PM) Lancelot: fiNe

(9:41 PM) Lancelot: Gnight, keith

(9:41 PM) Lancelot: Even though its literally 9:41 PM

(9:42 PM) Lancelot: No more and no less thank you very much.

(9:42 PM) Lancelot has left the chatroom!  
  
—————

Keith absentmindedly smiled at his phone as he saw the frantic notifications from Lance. He didn’t open them, but he could read them as they came down from the top of his phone, which was currently in a constant dinging state.

As the thread of spam continued, Keith took into consideration what the hell his relationship with this boy was. Did Keith like Lance? Were they just good friends? Keith then realized that despite the fact that he hung out with the younger almost every day Lance’s life was still shrouded in mystery.

Keith knew his name and age and even sexuality thanks to that weird question game questions game, but he still didn’t know who Lance was outside of work. Did he have a family? Was he in a relationship? It was hard to tell without any background information other than that he was a Cuban boy with dreams of becoming a astrologist and possibly banging Demi Lovato.

And so, Keith sat there on the floor of his garage, giving up on the motorcycle and instead thinking about all of Lance’s possible hobbies outside of astronomy and coffee shops.  
  
Keith was planning on doing that at least, until he got a message from his neighbor, Katie. Keith had actually always called her Pidge, though, because she was so tiny. She had always been short, not considering that Keith was a few years older than her, but she was still small for her age.  
—————  
(10:01 PM) Pidgeon has joined the chatroom!

(10:01 PM) Pidgeon: turn your fucking lights off binch I can’t sleep

(10:02 PM) Spacegay has entered the chatroom!

(10:02 PM) Spacegay: no

(10:02 PM) Pidgeon: w h y you fucking cunt I need sleep

(10:03 PM) Pidgeon: unless youre getting wildt don’t bother finding my body tomorrow

(10:03 PM) Spacegay: what  
  
(10:03 PM) Spacegay has left the chatroom!

(10:04 PM) Pidgeon: bitch

(10:04 PM) Pidgeon has left the chatroom!  
—————  
Lance was this close to almost given up on Keith entirely after deciding that the boy probably wouldn’t like him after all the spamming he had done. “What are you doing? Keith won’t like you anymore, dumbass,” Lance whispered to himself.

(This, of course, wasn’t true; Keith was still very interested in Lance.)

Lance then proceeded to have an overly-dramatic pity party, panicking silently to himself has he applied the oil-based face cleanser.

“I’m not gonna fall in love. Who the fuck said I was go Gonna fall in love?”

—————

Lance said he was gonna fall in love. That’s who.

The day after they began texting, Keith came in (per usual, today was no different) for his strawberry milkshake and zesty conversation with said cuban boy.

Today, Keith noticed, that Lance seemed a little on edge. He wasn’t his usual peppy self, but rather he found that awkward laughs filled the spaces that would usually have a snarky reply or a remark about Keith’s tactics on how to do things.

And oh, Lance knew himself pretty well. So well, actually, to the point where if he was catching feelings, he knew. He knew the second that he began to feel the tingle in his stomach that it was going to be another long, agonizing ride.

Keith, on the other hand, just assumed it was the milkshake.

Having only ever had one boyfriend and several one night stands, he only knew so much about the concept of love.

He just really hoped Lance liked him. He didn’t really know why.

It’s not like he going to the cafe out of habit anymore.

He was going because for some reason, it felt wrong to not get a strawberry milkshake.

For some reason, it felt wrong to /not/ go talk to Lance.

“Haha, yeah... we uh, we definitely have the best garlic knots in Cuba. Isn’t that right, Hunk?”

Lance turned to look at said boy who was currently working at the counter, pulling an almond bear claw out of the case for a customer.

“Yeah, sure.” Hunk replied half-heartedly, he was really trying not to drop the bear claw. The customer wanted the one from the very front of the case, which meant that Hunk had to move all of the fucking bear claws aside one by one until he could get the one in the very front, as requested.

Keith was amusedly watching Hunk, but decided to speak up anyway.

“Hey Lance, you should make Lion shaped cookies.”

Lance whipped around really fast, like, really fast.

So fast, in fact, that Keith was worried for the sake of the younger boy’s neck.

“Oh. My. God. Keith.”

Lance enunciated each word as if it were its own sentence, which made Keith grin.

He hid it behind the milkshake, though.

Gotta keep up that bad-boy rep, y’know?

“Yes, Lance?”

Keith was milking Lances over-the-top reaction to his suggestion. He did not think this would happen.

“You’re a fucking GENIUS!”

Lance slapped both of his hands down on the counter in a rather extreme fashion, making Keith jump a little.

“Jesus, Lance, it’s just a Lion. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t think of it.”

“They could be, like, COLORFUL! Oh my GOD, Keith you’re a genius!”

Keith let a small smile dance on his lips, “So I’ve heard.”

Hunk turned from the commotion, the almost-claw girl long gone. “They could be primary pals!” He smiled, showing off his teeth, “Like, red, blue, and yellow!”

This was honest to goodness not what Keith had imagined to happen when he mentioned the cookie-lions.

“SPEAKING of which,” Lance interrupted Hunks rant about the “primary pal lions,” much to Hunks dismay, “There’s a glow in the dark party tonight at that one girls house, the one from highschool? Nyma? Keith, Hunk, you should go with me,” He announced.

“Lance that has nothing to do with primary colored lions,” Hunk complained, “But I can’t go anyway, I have to watch my sisters cat.”

“Lame excuse, Hunk. Lame excuse. But whatever, Keith you can still go, right?” Lance turned to Keith.

“Uh, sure, I guess.”

There was his mistake.

 


End file.
